A Man Who Could Make You Laugh Again
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Jonathan Crane insists that the Joker and Harley Quinn's romance is based on circumstance, rather than fate, and borrows Jervis Tetch's alternate reality simulator to try and change the circumstances of their meeting in his favor. Is Joker and Harley's mad love meant to be, or just an unhappy accident? Thanks to WordsThatKill for the suggestion :-)
1. Chapter 1

**A Man Who Could Make You Laugh Again**

"I'm going to ask one last time, and then I'm just going to punish everyone," said Dr. Joan Leland, head doctor of Arkham Asylum, as she glared sternly at the assembled group of inmates. "Unless someone is willing to tell me who did it."

She looked pointedly at Harley Quinn, who looked coolly back at her, clinging to Joker's arm adoringly. "I do have my suspicions," continued Dr. Leland. "But unless someone gives me a name, everyone is getting their TV privileges revoked."

"A very idle threat for some of us, if you don't mind me saying, Dr. Leland," spoke up Jervis Tetch, otherwise known as the Mad Hatter. "Some of us don't watch TV."

"And those of you who don't are not high on my suspect list," replied Dr. Leland. "I suspect it's someone here who enjoys the 3-5 PM weekday cartoon block, as well as the Saturday morning cartoon block. A certain someone who won't be getting to watch his cartoon blocks for a very long time. And nobody will be getting to watch anything for a very long time, unless one of you tells me who it was."

"If you suspect it was J, why punish all of us?" demanded Poison Ivy. "Why not just punish him?"

"Because that's not how the law works, Pamela," retorted Dr. Leland. "People cannot be convicted on suspicions. They need evidence."

"Well, that's not what Batman thinks!" chuckled Joker. "Whenever he sees us out and about, he always attacks us, whether we're actually up to something or not! His suspicions about us causing trouble are why we're all here now!"

"And mine are going to revoke all your TV privileges!" snapped Dr. Leland. "Unless someone tells me who it was!"

"J!" snapped Ivy, pointing at him. "Of course it was J! Who else causes trouble around here? He thought it would be funny to put rotten eggs in the air conditioning system, because he's a total jerk who thinks that making people suffer is hilarious!"

"Red!" snapped Harley, furiously. "Mr. J paid you twenty bucks not to squeal on him!"

"TV is worth more than twenty bucks, Harley!" snapped Ivy. "My gardening show is the one thing that keeps me sane in here!"

"Well, gee, I didn't know your gardening show was worth stabbing your friend in the back!" snapped Harley. "At least when Mr. J throws a punch, I can see it coming! Ow!" she cried, as Joker's fist suddenly collided with the back of her head.

"You little idiot – I could have denied Pammie's accusation by saying she's always out to get me!" shouted Joker. "But now you've told Leland I bribed her, plus confirmed it was my doing! Your big blabbermouth is worse than a prison snitch's, and I've shanked my fair share of those!"

"Leave her alone!" shouted Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, striding forward as Joker punched Harley again, knocking her to the ground. "Pick on someone your own size for once!"

"Don't flatter yourself, pal!" snapped Joker, rounding on him. "You are in no way my size, as a supervillain or as a man! So just back off!" he shouted, shoving him back.

"Guards, take Joker to solitary!" ordered Dr. Leland, as a group of guards descended on him. "Everyone else may return to the Rec Room, with full access to the TV."

"Are you all right?" asked Crane, hurrying over to Harley and helping her up.

"Yeah," muttered Harley, glaring at the group of guards that dragged Joker away. "Just pissed off."

"You can't be blamed for that – he has no right to treat you like that…" began Crane.

"I mean pissed off at Joan," snapped Harley. "I don't want puddin' locked up in solitary where I can't get to him. I'm not happy when he's not with me. And now I gotta look forward to however many weeks of being miserable."

She kicked at the ground, and then stormed toward the Rec Room. "Why do they punish a guy for just trying to have a little fun anyway?" she demanded. "God knows that's hard enough in this town, never mind this dump!"

"Harley, I don't know why you defend that man," said Crane, following her. "Especially right after he's abused you like that…"

"Because she's insane," muttered Ivy, taking a seat on the sofa and flicking on her gardening show.

"Because I love him, Red," snapped Harley, sitting down next to her. "I love him," she repeated, in a softer tone. "I mean, everyone has bad days, and bad moods. All the pressures of life build up, and get to you, and sometimes you accidentally hurt the people you love."

"Have you ever accidentally hurt J?" demanded Ivy.

"Sure, lots of times," said Harley, shrugging. "There was that time I tried to kill Batman…"

"And J shoved you out of a window twenty storeys up," finished Ivy, nodding.

"Well, there was that time I didn't laugh at one of his jokes…" began Harley.

"And he smashed your face into a wall," finished Ivy.

"How about that time I screwed up the jewel heist…" began Harley.

"And he tied you to the railroad tracks and left you," said Ivy.

"Aw, he was only kidding around – he was gonna come back for me before the train came through," said Harley, waving her hand.

"My point is, every time you accidentally hurt him, he intentionally hurts you back worse," said Ivy. "And that's really not what relationships are supposed to be about, violent one-upmanship, and a contest to see who can hurt the other one more."

"Well, that's what _our_ relationship is about," said Harley, shrugging. "It's unique and special, and it works for us."

Ivy rolled her eyes, and then looked at Crane. "See? Insane," she said, nodding at Harley.

"You're just jealous that you don't have a fella who's as loving and loyal to you as my puddin' is to me," retorted Harley.

"I think we might have different definitions of the words loving and loyal," replied Ivy. "See, your problem, Harley, is that you don't have any experience of relationships with other men. The Joker was the first guy who showed an interest in you when you were a shrink here in Arkham. He got under your skin, so you don't know how real, mutually loving relationships are supposed to work. So you attach yourself to people who treat you like crap, because you don't know any better. Now shut up – I'm trying to watch my show."

Harley stuck her tongue out at Ivy. "What does she know?" muttered Harley, standing up and leaving her. "I got a great relationship, and a buncha great friends who treat me fine. Like you, Johnny!" she said, beaming at Crane. "You came to defend me from Mr. J! And I've asked you not to do that," she snapped, frowning suddenly. "I don't want you getting hurt for my sake, and Mr. J tends to hurt people who try and spoil his fun."

"His fun in beating you?" asked Crane, dryly. "Forgive me, Harley, but I'm not just going to stand idly by and let someone treat you like that…"

"Yes, you are," she interrupted, firmly. "For your own good. I really care about my friends, and I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt trying to defend me, when there's no point in doing that. I'm used to a little pain being with Mr. J this long. You're a nice guy, and I don't want to see something bad happen to you trying to prevent something that I don't even mind. So please just stay outta it in future. For me?" she asked, hopefully, gazing up at him with her wide, blue eyes.

Crane couldn't speak when she looked at him like that, but managed a nod. "Great, thanks, Johnny!" she said, beaming and kissing his cheek. "See ya soon!" she said, skipping out of the Rec Room. "I'm gonna find a way to sneak into solitary!"

Crane stared after her, and then sank down on the sofa, sighing. "Go pine for her somewhere else – my show's on," snapped Ivy, her eyes fixed on the TV.

"Sorry," said Crane, standing up again. He paused. "Do you really think that? That Harley's so attached to the Joker just because he was the first guy to be…openly interested in her? You think it's just because she never knew any different?"

"Yeah," said Ivy, shrugging. "A first love is an incredibly strong thing – I should know. Couple that with the fact that she sees him as the guy who saved her from her life of loneliness and repression, and it kinda makes sense why she's so attached to him. I mean, as much sense as a crazy person can actually make. But it's only because she doesn't know any better – it's not like they're soulmates or anything. If it had been some other guy here in Arkham who showed an interest in her instead of J, she'd be crazy about him now, you mark my words. Not that there's any way to prove that theory."

"Well…perhaps there is," said Crane thoughtfully, as an idea struck him. "Perhaps there is."

"Uh huh, TV now, so beat it," said Ivy, ignoring him and turning her attention back to the screen.

Crane left the Rec Room and made his way back to the cell block. "Jervis?" he called. "Are you in here?"

"Excellent timing, Jonathan – I'm just making some tea!" called back Tetch from his cell. "Do come in and have a cup!"

"Thank you," said Crane, opening the door to his friend's cell.

"I daresay we need a cup of tea after all that unpleasantness this morning," sighed Tetch, pouring two cups from a teapot. "We must pray for cool weather until they get the air conditioning system cleaned – rotten eggs is enough to put anyone off their tea."

"Well, I suppose it's not the worst thing he could have chosen to put in the air conditioning," sighed Crane. "Jervis…I was wondering if I could ask a favor."

"Of course, anything," said Tetch, smiling at his friend. "How can I help, Jonathan?"

"I was wondering if you still had the means to make…an alternate reality simulator," said Crane, slowly.

Tetch's smile fell into a frown as he put down his cup. Then he got up and opened the cell door, looking around carefully before shutting it firmly. "You mustn't mention such things with the Joker around," Tetch whispered. "He's broken my last five…"

"He's locked up in solitary confinement…" began Crane.

"I still don't trust him not to be listening," whispered Tetch. "The man has almost supernatural powers sometimes, and I will not risk him destroying another one of my precious creations. They're not easy to build, you know. It takes a lot of time and effort to simulate an entire reality from scratch."

"I just have a theory I'd like to test out," said Crane. "Pamela thinks…the only reason Harley is so attached to the Joker is because he was the one to show an interest in her when Harley began her career at Arkham. She thinks if anyone else had done so, Harley would be equally obsessed with them now."

"That seems far-fetched," commented Tetch, picking up his tea again. "I know Pamela is a bit of a cynic when it comes to romance, and one can't blame her, based on her experiences, but to me, Harley and Joker's relationship makes perfect sense. They seem ideal for each other."

"Ideal?" repeated Crane, furiously. "To see that monster beat that angel like he did earlier?"

"Harley does not object to being beaten by him," replied Tetch, shrugging. "Her relationship is something she has chosen, despite the violence. One would assume, therefore, that the violence is something she enjoys on some level. Which is why I think she and the Joker are ideal for each other. They share a love of pain, and Harley is the only woman in the world who would relish putting up with his emotional distance and insane mood swings. But relish it she does – she's usually happy. They have their occasional spats, but by and large she clearly finds the relationship emotionally fulfilling."

"And you don't think she could find that emotional fulfillment with another man?" demanded Crane. "Who wouldn't make her put up with violence and insane mood swings?"

Tetch looked at him pityingly. "My dear Jonathan, I do know something of what you are going through," he said, softly. "And I sympathize with your desire to want to be the man Harley wants. But I'm just trying to save you from an inevitable disappointment, when you use my reality simulator and discover that Harley has no romantic interest in you, despite the change in your circumstances."

"How do you know that will happen?" demanded Crane. "We might be very happy together…"

"Because it happened to me," interrupted Tetch, gently. He poured himself another cup. "I built a sixth simulator, after Joker broke the other five. And this time I finally got to use it for the purpose for which it was intended – to change the circumstances of my life so that Alice and I could be together. I tried every combination I could think of – I made it so her fiance never existed, I changed myself into a young, handsome, ideal man, I even wiped out everyone else on earth except for her and me…none of it worked. And I gradually realized that we could never be together, because we weren't meant to be together. Our fate is something I could never change. And we shouldn't try to change what is meant to be. I am afraid that Joker and Harley are one of those things."

"You mean to tell me that you think that gorgeous, gentle, sweet woman, that angel on earth, was born to be an abused toy of that monster's?" demanded Crane.

"From your perspective, yes," said Tetch, nodding. "Although I imagine she looks at it a little differently."

"I don't believe you!" snapped Crane. "I am a scientist, Jervis, and so are you! And scientists don't believe in fate, or that things are meant to be! Things can be changed, and will be changed, given a different set of circumstances. That's what science is all about, experimentation, and changing conditions to get different results."

Tetch sighed deeply, and then reached under his bed to withdraw a top hat with several dials and wires attached. "Very well then," he said, handing it to him. "Don't say I didn't warn you, and on your head be it. Quite literally," he said, smiling. "And for God's sake, whatever you do, don't let the Joker get ahold of it, or he'll smash it into a thousand pieces."

"Don't worry, Jervis," said Crane, taking the hat from him carefully. "The Joker isn't going to destroy anything anymore. At least, not where I'm going."


	2. Chapter 2

One of the few things Jonathan Crane prided himself on was his ability to study. He had always excelled at academic pursuits, if nothing else, finishing consistently top of his class at almost everything throughout school and college (except physical education, but that didn't count as a real subject, in Crane's view).

In any case, he was a man who believed it was best to be armed with as much knowledge as possible before embarking on anything. And to that end, rather than just activate the simulator and head straight into the unknown, Crane instead spent a few weeks reading up on Harley's descent into madness. It was all in her files, which were easily accessible if one knew how to pick a few locks, first on the offices, and then on the filing cabinets.

Harley's files contained her personal notes on her meetings with the Joker, gradually turning from professional notations to goofy doodles of her and the Joker kissing, and scrawled cursive variations on the theme "Mrs. H. Q. Joker." They also contained audio and video recordings of Joker and Harley's first meetings, and a few of their sessions. One time, Harley had clearly forgotten to turn off the tape recorder before she and the Joker got down to business, and Crane was subjected to a rather horrifying experience of listening to the noises they made and the things they said to each other in an intimate context. Not that he wasn't used to hearing this about the asylum (Harley wasn't a quiet woman), but it was hardly the sort of thing you wanted to hear when trying to research.

Crane was in the Rec Room watching the recorded CCTV footage of Joker and Harley's first meetings, where Joker had winked at her, and later when she had shown him a note attached to a flower he had given her. Crane was taking notes of his own from the footage when he heard a commotion at the door, and it was flung open, and Harley flung inside.

"It's called _solitary_ confinement, Harley!" shouted Dr. Leland, following her in. "That means Joker doesn't get visitors!"

"But Joan, it's been weeks!" pleaded Harley. "Just let him out for quick lunchbreak, huh? Please? I miss him so much!"

Dr. Leland sighed as Harley gazed up pleadingly at her. "All right," she muttered. "He gets out for one hour, but then he's being put straight back in!"

"Thanks, Joan, you're the best!" exclaimed Harley, hugging her tightly. "I'll make him behave, I promise! I mean, I'll make him behave toward you – personally I'm hoping my puddin' will be a naughty boy in bed later!"

Dr. Leland shuddered, and then gestured for the guards. "Bring the Joker, please," she said.

"Hey, that's me!" exclaimed Harley, noticing the footage on TV. "Back when I was all shrink-like! Where'd you get ahold of this, Johnny?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge my sources," he replied.

"Gosh, look how young I looked!" laughed Harley. "All prim and proper and naïve! Boy, Mr. J sure saved my life!" she sighed. "Without him, I'd still be working my ass off for no reward, all grim and unsmiling, like I am there," she said, nodding at the screen. "Not the happy soul I am today. And I owe it all to my precious puddin'! And there he is!" she exclaimed, as the guards dragged in the Joker. Harley skipped over to him and kissed him. "Hi puddin'! Miss me?"

In response, he punched her across the face. "I'm still mad at you for ratting me out," he retorted.

"Aw, c'mon, puddin'!" pleaded Harley, wiping her bleeding lip. "You know I didn't mean it! And I got you out for an hour at least!"

"You expecting me to be grateful that you're trying to correct your mistake after you screwed up?" demanded Joker. "I'd expect nothing less. You oughta be on your knees begging my forgiveness."

"Ok, Mr. J," said Harley, dropping to her knees instantly. "I'm really, really sorry, puddin'. Please, please, please forgive me. Please?" she asked, hopefully.

Joker shrugged. "Well, I ain't gonna waste my hour being moody. What do I look like, the Bat?" he chuckled, beaming suddenly.

"What do you wanna do with your hour, puddin'?" purred Harley. "Since your Harley girl's already on her knees, she's got a great idea…"

"I wanna watch TV," he said, shoving her away and heading over to the sofa. "I missed that most of all in solitary – had to make my own cartoons using a sock puppet and the bend in the sink. I called 'em Stinky and the Drain, and they were still funnier than that Spongepants thing on TV, not that that's hard. Beat it, nerd," he snapped at Crane.

"No," retorted Crane. "I was here first. Anyway, I'm not sure your television ban's been lifted."

"Who's gonna stop me?" asked Joker, leaning forward. "You? Don't make me laugh."

He suddenly noticed the screen, and blinked. "Hey, that's me!" he exclaimed, pointing and smiling again. "Well, why didn't you say you were watching me, Craney? That's a horse of a different color!"

"I'm taking notes on your first meetings with Harley," replied Crane.

"Yeah? Why's that?" asked Joker. "Hoping to learn some seduction tips from the Master? Well, I hate to burst your bubble, Johnny, but they only work if you got the ol' Joker charm to go with it. Plus the ol' Joker stunning good looks," he said, gesturing to his face.

"I just like to see your method," replied Crane. "It interests me how you could manipulate an intelligent doctor like Harley."

"Aw, he didn't manipulate me, Johnny," said Harley, taking a seat at Joker's feet. "It was true love. Just hit me the moment I saw him. See?" she asked, pointing at the screen where Joker winked at her, and she blushed bright red, glancing shyly back at him. "I can't tell you how special I felt, that a guy like that was paying attention to a nobody like little ol' me."

"You fell in love with him right there?" asked Crane.

"Well, no," replied Harley. "I mean, it was flattering, but it took a lot more than that before I realized I was nuts about him."

"Is there any moment you specifically remember when you realized that?" asked Crane.

Harley thought. "Yeah," she said at last. "He made me laugh. Like, really laugh, so hard that tears rolled down my cheeks. I had never laughed like that before. Almost doubled over, almost fell on the floor, I just couldn't stop. It just felt so good. And it was all…because of him," she said, smiling and laying her head on Joker's lap. He looked down at her, and placed a hand on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently.

"My little pet," he said, smiling smugly.

"From doctor to dog – you must be honored," said Crane, sarcastically, standing up before he had to see any more. He headed over to the TV and removed the tape.

"Why are you so interested in our courtship anyway, Johnny?" asked Harley. "I mean, you didn't need to go through all that trouble of stealing the tape, which I assume is what you've done. I'd be happy to tell you all about it."

"That won't be necessary," he said. "I think I have all I need."

"All you need for what?" asked Harley.

"An experiment I'm conducting," he replied. "About…human romantic behavioral patterns. And whether they…can be changed."

"Sounds like an experiment you ain't qualified for, having never had any human romantic interaction of your own!" chuckled Joker. "And how are you even conducting that, locked up in here?"

"I have my ways," replied Crane.

"Really?" asked Joker, raising his eyebrows. "Must be some fancy technology you're using."

"It is, actually," said Crane, nodding.

"That your friend designed?" asked Joker, innocently. "The hat guy, right?"

Crane glared at him. "Perhaps," he replied. He glanced across the room to where Tetch sat, apparently engrossed in his book, but the frantic hand motions he made across his throat betrayed his panic at the Joker's question. "Or perhaps not," finished Crane.

Joker grinned at him. "Harley, be a lamb and keep the seat warm, will ya?" he asked, standing up. "I just want a word with Craney in private."

"Sure thing, Mr. J!" said Harley happily, sitting down in the spot Joker had vacated. Crane and Joker headed across the room out of her earshot.

"So you wanna tell me what's really going on?" asked Joker, smiling at him. "Hatty's built another reality simulator, hasn't he?"

Crane glanced over at Tetch again, who had sunk down in his chair and dropped his head despairingly into his book. "Why do you think that?" asked Crane, turning back to Joker.

"Oh, c'mon!" chuckled Joker. "You studying me and Harley's meeting can only mean you wanna try and do something about it! I know how you feel about her. And since Hatty ain't invented time travel, as far as I know, the obvious conclusion is that he's given you something so you can make a different reality, one where you interfere with mine and Harley's meeting somehow. Well, good luck to you, pal. Nothing can prevent that from happening, trust me. But hey, if it could, I'd be happy to be rid of the little brat," he said, clapping him on the back. "So do your best."

"Why are you so sure I won't succeed?" demanded Crane.

Joker chuckled. "Well, let's just say I know Harley a little better than you do," he said. "I know the way her mind works, I know the ins and outs of it better than I know my own. But that's because she's the same as me. Well, obviously I'm a lot smarter than her, but in terms of who we are as people…we're two of a kind. That's what I made her realize. And you might really love her. You might be really sweet and sincere toward her. But you'll never be the same kinda person she is, and that's what she needs. Someone who understands her the way I do. And that won't ever be you. You wanna know why, nerd?"

"Why?" asked Crane.

Joker grinned. "Because you can't make her laugh," he whispered. "But like I said, good luck to ya. Just be ready for me to say 'I told you so' when you get back from your little jaunt in the alternate reality."

He strode back toward the TV, whistling. As he passed Tetch, he grabbed his book, and lifted him up by the collar. "And when I find it, Hatty, I'm breaking it," he said, grinning at him. "And then I'm breaking your face! Two for the price of one, huh?" he chuckled, shoving him back into the chair. He kept giggling madly to himself as he headed back over to the sofa, and Harley.

"Don't worry, Jervis," said Crane. "He won't find it. It's safely hidden away, and he's back in solitary in less than an hour."

"I wish I had your confidence," sighed Tetch. "But I think he will find it, eventually. And then break it, and then break my face. It is as inevitable as the oysters all being eaten by the Walrus and the Carpenter, or the baby turning into a pig, or the Queen of Hearts shouting 'Off with their heads!' or Harley ending up with the Joker…"

"That's not inevitable!" snapped Crane. "And I'm going to prove it! Good day to you!"

Tetch watched him go, and sighed. "I'm certainly glad I'm not that delusional," he said to himself, returning to his book. "Now I wonder if I could actually drive a hare to insanity so I could have an authentic Mad Hatter's tea party…"


	3. Chapter 3

"I am sorry I didn't invent some way to carry objects in between realities," said Jervis Tetch, adjusting some dials on the simulator. "Otherwise you could bring your notes."

"That's not necessary – I have an excellent memory," replied Crane. "I know the monster's every move, backwards and forwards, and I am prepared to replicate them exactly. I'm changing a singular variable, the identity of the man who uses these strategies on her, but the result will be the same, with Harley fawning over me, you mark my words."

"I shall," agreed Tetch, nodding. "I've set the parameters of the reality. Do you want the Joker to even exist in this one?"

"Oh yes," said Crane. "Eventually I want him dragged to Arkham, just so I can see the baffled look on his smug face when he tries to seduce Harley after she's already fallen for me. But I don't want him there during Harley's first day, or even first week. No need for unnecessary distractions, or competition."

"Very well," said Tetch, moving some more dials. "I believe you're all set. Good luck, and I look forward to hearing all about your experience on your return."

"Be prepared to hear about my success," said Crane.

"Yes, I certainly will," said Tetch, nodding. "But I bet Poison Ivy twenty dollars that you wouldn't be successful, so perhaps it won't be all bad if you don't succeed."

"You bet against me?" demanded Crane. "I thought you were my friend!"

"I am," replied Tetch, nodding. "I am also a man who recognizes madness when he sees it. Ta ta," he said, activating the machine.

Crane sputtered to think of a clever response, but by the time he had, he had already arrived in the alternate reality, locked up in another cell. "Well…madness to a madman is sanity!" he snapped at the air. "So take that!"

"Jonathan? Who are you talking to?" asked Dr. Leland, who had stopped by his cell.

"Nobody," retorted Crane.

"Well, try and keep the insanity to a minimum, will you?" sighed Dr. Leland. "I'm just about to show a new doctor around, and I don't want her scared off on her first day."

"Don't worry, Dr. Leland," said Crane, confidently. "Dr. Quinzel will not be scared off. In fact, she'll be absolutely fascinated and unable to keep away, I assure you."

"How do you know her name?" asked Dr. Leland, puzzled. "I don't think I've mentioned her to the patients at all."

"I…overheard one of the doctors talking about her," invented Crane. "A very pretty young lady, so I hear."

"That's no business of yours, is it?" said Dr. Leland, sternly. "I don't want Dr. Quinzel harassed by anyone here. She's come here to work, and I'm sure she has a sense of professionalism that would never allow her to become involved with her patients. We don't hire just anyone to work here, you know – they have to go through an extensive screening process."

"Dr. Leland, I used to work closely with this facility before my incarceration," retorted Crane. "With the high staff mortality rate, you just hire anyone who's willing to work here. And considering Dr. Quinzel is one of those people, I would think that would cast aspersions on her sanity already."

Dr. Leland glared at him. "While normally I would agree with you, Dr. Quinzel is the very model of sanity," she snapped. "I am an excellent judge of character, and I personally interviewed her. I promise you, if she's in any way unprofessional, I'll hand in my resignation."

"I'd start drafting it now," muttered Crane under his breath as Dr. Leland strode off. "Now, I'd best prepare to meet her," he said. "How did the monster do it? Leaning against the wall and whistling, wasn't it? Casual nonchalance, which will be the defining factor of his whole future relationship with Harley. But not once she's with me," he said, firmly. "It'll all be different then. There will be no more abuse, no more cruel dismissal of her feelings, no more pain…we'll both be happy together. I'm sure of it."

He heard voices coming from down the corridor, Harley's professional voice, which repressed her natural Brooklyn accent, and Dr. Leland's saying, "If you're thinking about cashing in on them by writing a tell-all book, think again."

Crane leaned back against the wall of his cell and attempted whistling, but this was a skill he had never quite mastered. His tuneless, awkward, and occasional high-pitched attempt at it, however, drew Dr. Leland and Harley's attention over to him.

Crane was once again struck by how beautiful Harley looked without her clown makeup and with her glasses. Those rounded frames brought out her beautiful, big, blue eyes, which looked around the asylum nervously, fixating at last on him.

He suddenly remembered that he was meant to be testing his hypothesis, and smiled, winking at Harley. "Are you all right?" asked Harley, looking concerned.

"What? Yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?" asked Crane.

"With the noise you were just making, and the uncoordinated blinking, I thought you might be having a stroke or something," said Harley. "I just graduated from med school, so I'm hyper-alert to the signs of stuff like that."

"No, no, no, I was…attempting to whistle," stammered Crane. "And…winking at you."

"Oh. Ok. Why?" asked Harley, puzzled.

"Just…trying to be friendly," he said. "I can't really shake your hand through the glass, can I? I just thought…a wink might be the next best thing," he invented.

"I think saying, 'Hi,' would probably be the next best thing," said Dr. Leland. "Winking is borderline creepy, and you're not creepy, Jonathan. This is Professor Jonathan Crane, Dr. Quinzel," she said, gesturing at him. "He's obsessed with fears and phobias. One of our most challenging patients, since he used to be a psychiatrist himself, and therefore resents our interference. But you'll get used to his contemptuous attitude toward his doctors, I'm sure."

"I don't have a contemptuous attitude toward doctors!" snapped Crane. "At least…I wouldn't towards Dr. Quinzel," he said, smiling at her. "She seems so different from the other doctors in here – like a breath of fresh air."

"Why's that?" asked Dr. Leland.

"Well…she's so…young and…newly qualified and…attractive," stammered Crane.

"Are you saying no other doctor in here is attractive?" asked Dr. Leland. "I'm kinda offended, I'm not gonna lie. And I'm not that old…"

"I don't think you should take what the inmates in here say personally, Joan," said Harley. "They're insane, after all, so they probably don't know what they're talking about. I know I'd never trust a word any of them said to me, and I've only been here a few minutes."

"You're right, Harley," said Dr. Leland, nodding. "You're already learning the ropes here. And you've got a good head on your shoulders," she said, looking pointedly at Crane. "I think you're going to fit in splendidly on the staff here. Come on – we'll get lunch, and then I'll show you to your office," she said, leading her away.

Crane cursed himself under his breath. "Well, the initial meeting may not have gone to plan, but I can still fix this," he muttered, fiddling with the lock on the door so it opened. "Plenty of time, after all. Good things come to those who wait. And first impressions are certainly not the be all and end all."

He crept out of the cell block and through one of the open windows, emerging into one of the many flower beds around Arkham Asylum, usually tended by a very heavily supervised Poison Ivy. Crane looked around for her now – the last thing he needed was to be attacked by her for picking flowers. Not seeing her, he hurried to find a rose bush to pick a single bloom for Harley.

He found the flower he wanted and reached down to pick it. "Ow!" he exclaimed, as he pricked himself on one of the thorns. "Dammit," he hissed, putting his finger in his mouth as he used his other hand to seize the flower and rip it off the bush. "I don't know why Pamela is so protective of you little devils," he muttered, turning around with the rose in his hand.

He was suddenly seized around the neck by a tendril of vines. "Because I can feel their pain, Johnny!" hissed a familiar voice, as Poison Ivy glared at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, murdering my babies in their prime?!"

"I'm…sorry!" gasped Crane, trying to pull the vine away from his throat, which made it tighten its grip. "I just…need this rose…to impress the new doctor!"

"Nobody should be impressed by the dying husks of my children!" snapped Ivy. "And since you've already killed it, you're going to pay for it with your life!"

"Pamela…please…you don't understand!" gasped Crane. "It's…very important…"

"So is avenging murder!" shouted Ivy.

"But...it'll win you a bet...in another reality..." gasped Crane.

"Isley, release the patient!" snapped a guard, as a group of them appeared on the scene, aiming their guns. "Or we'll open fire!"

Ivy glared from them to Crane, and then gestured at her plant to release him. He fell to the ground, gasping, as Ivy strode over and snatched the rose from his hand. "I'll take that, thank you," she snapped. "I'm going to give the poor thing a proper burial."

"But…but you can't!" stammered Crane. "I need it!"

"Get the patients back to their cells, and for God's sake, don't let Dr. Leland know they got out," ordered the guard, as the others seized both Crane and Ivy and escorted them back to the cell block.

The door slammed in Crane's face, and he sat down on his bed, trying to think. "I wonder why the Joker wasn't attacked when he got his rose," he muttered. "Or maybe he was, but he's just better at dealing with Pamela. But fine, if I can't have a rose, I'll just have to improvise."

He waited for the guards to walk past, and then fiddled the lock on his cell again, this time creeping into the Rec Room. There was a small potted plant on the windowsill, and Crane carefully picked it up, and then snuck past the Rec Room to the office block. He found Dr. Quinzel's, still mercifully empty, and hurried inside. Putting the plant down on her desk, he grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and hastily wrote: _Come down and see me sometime – J._ Then he left the office and returned to his cell, without being caught again.

"Thank heaven for small mercies," he said, lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, and smiling. "Now all I have to do is wait."


	4. Chapter 4

"Time for your session, Jonathan," said Dr. Leland, unlocking the door to Crane's cell later. "Which I will be handling today."

"What?" asked Crane, frowning. "But…I thought Dr. Quinzel was going to be seeing me. I made certain that was one of the parameters…"

"Dr. Quinzel won't be seeing anyone for a little while," interrupted Dr. Leland. "Some idiot put poison ivy in her office."

"Oh, for goodness sake, what did Poison Ivy do to her?" demanded Crane. "She's such a ridiculous woman - it wasn't Dr. Quinzel's fault that rose was picked!"

"No, I mean somebody put a poison ivy plant in her office," retorted Dr. Leland. "Dr. Quinzel had a severe allergic reaction to it, got covered in red blotches, and had to head to the hospital. If it was some moron's idea of a prank on her first day, it wasn't funny. This J person might think of themselves as quite the practical joker, but as soon as I find out who it is, they're in big trouble," she said, holding up Crane's note.

Crane stared at her. "Poison…ivy…who was growing poison ivy in the Rec Room?!" he demanded.

"Poison Ivy," replied Dr. Leland. "She's allowed as long as she doesn't have it make contact with other people, and she's assured me she didn't put it in Dr. Quinzel's office. You wouldn't happen to know who did, would you, Jonathan?"

"No," said Crane, hastily. "That is…I'm sure whomever it was…didn't mean any harm. Perhaps they just weren't aware that the asylum kept potted plants of poison ivy lying around in easily accessible places."

"Maybe," said Dr. Leland. "But it was certainly a horrible welcome for Dr. Quinzel. I wouldn't blame her for quitting after one day after this mess, and frankly having to find another doctor on such short notice is the last thing I need right now."

"But…but she can't quit," stammered Crane. "She just can't…we have to have a session together. I have to complete my experiment…"

"What experiment?" asked Dr. Leland. "I swear to God, if you fear gas Dr. Quinzel after all she's been through, I'll call Batman to come in here and knock you around some."

"I don't want to fear gas her!" snapped Crane. "I just want to talk to her. I think we could have a real connection, if given the chance – I honestly think the two of us could make a breakthrough together."

Dr. Leland looked at him. "I've always thought of you as a gentleman, Jonathan," she said. "If I let Dr. Quinzel have a session with you when she gets back, and you act otherwise toward her, my threat about calling Batman still stands. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, yes," said Crane, nodding. "And I assure you, I am a gentleman, and will be nothing less toward her. She will have no complaints about her sessions with me – in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she looked forward to them."

"Speaking of sessions, let's get to yours," said Dr. Leland, opening the cell door. "And I'll let you know when Dr. Quinzel is back."

It wasn't for a good few days. And even upon her return, the blotches hadn't entirely disappeared from her skin. She looked pale and ill and covered in scabs, and she could barely force a smile as she sat in a chair next to Crane on the sofa during their first session.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" asked Crane, concerned.

"As good as I look," she murmured, itching one of the scabs on her face. "Whoever did it, it was a mean trick to play on me my first day here. Not that I'm surprised by that, really," she said, looking down at her notes with tears in her eyes. "People have never really treated me with a lotta respect. Even at college and medical school, even though I worked really hard, I was always thought of as just some dumb blonde who had no business being there. I guess people here feel the same."

"Oh no, my dear, I'm sure it's not that at all," said Crane, hastily. "I'm sure it was an accident. Probably a sincere gesture by someone who was trying to welcome you kindly with a plant…"

"It's nice that you see the best in people," interrupted Harley. "I really don't. As a kid, the other kids used to make fun of me because of my glasses and because I was a little different and awkward. And when I got older, people only seemed to be interested in my looks, while dismissing everything else about me. But maybe your experiences have been better than mine."

"No, they certainly haven't," said Crane. "I was bullied horribly throughout my childhood, and even into adulthood. No one's ever respected me either, not really. We have that in common, my dear."

"It's Dr. Quinzel, if you don't mind," said Harley. "I'd like respect from my patients, if no one else."

"Of course, Dr. Quinzel," said Crane, nodding. "Please believe I do respect you. I hold you in the highest regard, truly."

"It's nice of you to say so," said Harley, in a tone that implied that she didn't really believe him. "Now enough about me – let's talk about you. Tell me about your childhood. You mentioned bullying?"

"Yes, but…I'd rather talk about my family," said Crane, remembering his lines. "You know, my father used to beat me up pretty badly. Every time I got out of line – bam! Or sometimes, I'd be just sitting there doing nothing – pow! Pops tended to favor the grape, you see. There was only one time I ever saw Dad really happy. He took me to the circus when I was seven. I still remember the clowns, running around, dropping their pants. My old man laughed so hard, I thought he'd bust a gut, so the very next night, I ran out to meet him with his best Sunday pants around my ankles."

It was at this moment, during the Joker and Harley's original session, that the Joker had dropped his pants. Harley had been so engrossed in his story that she laughed along with him when he did that. Unfortunately for Crane, her reaction to him doing the same action was vastly different.

The alarm button was instantly slammed down, and Crane was dragged off by the guards, with Dr. Quinzel shouting angrily after him about pressing charges for sexual harassment.

"What did I say I would do, Jonathan?!" roared Dr. Leland, storming into his cell. "I swear I'm calling Batman, and I'm going to turn a blind eye to anything he does to you after this!"

"But Dr. Leland, she completely misinterpreted what I meant!" protested Crane. "I was telling her a story about my childhood, not attempting to do anything untoward!"

"Don't bother making excuses!" shouted Dr. Leland. "It's too late for that! It was the final straw for Dr. Quinzel! Because of you, she's handed in her resignation!"

"What?" gasped Crane. "But…but she can't quit! My experiment will be ruined if she leaves Arkham! You have to convince her to stay!"

"Why?" demanded Dr. Leland. "After being horribly pranked by people and sexually harassed by patients, I certainly don't blame her for wanting to quit! The best I can hope for is that she doesn't sue us, because she'd certainly be justified in doing so! Just what the hell were you thinking?!"

"I…I was thinking…it should have worked!" stammered Crane. "I…I didn't intentionally change any other variables! If anything, she should have been feeling even more emotionally vulnerable! I don't understand what went wrong…"

"Well, maybe I can explain it to you," snapped Dr. Leland. "Women don't like it when guys they've just met randomly drop their pants. Especially in the context of a professional relationship. Honestly, how were you a professor for however many years without knowing that?!"

"I do know that!" snapped Crane. "I'm an intelligent man, which is why I don't understand why the exact same strategies aren't working! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, welcome to the madhouse, professor!" snapped Dr. Leland, turning on her heel and storming off. "If you ask me, Harley's lucky to be leaving it!"

Crane glared after her. "We'll see about that, Dr. Leland," he muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening, Harley cleared out her desk, said her few goodbyes, and now entered her office to collect the single box of personal effects. She turned when the door suddenly shut.

"Dr. Quinzel, you have to let me explain," said Crane, standing in front of it. "You can't leave Arkham. You just can't."

"Get out of my way, Professor Crane, before I sound the alarm on you again," snapped Harley. "I think the guards would be interested to know you've been out of your cell."

"Look, you have to listen to me," he said, approaching her.

"You stay away," commanded Harley, lifting the box. "I'm stronger than I look, so come near me and I'll brain you with this."

"Just let me explain," repeated Crane. "I've been attempting…an experiment…"

"Was it how far you can push the new doctor before she quits?" demanded Harley. "Because congrats, professor, it's probably a new record. It was you who put the poison ivy in my office, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but I had no idea it was poison ivy," replied Crane. "You have to believe me. It was intended as a nice, welcoming gesture…"

"And dropping your pants was intended as the same, I suppose?" asked Harley, sarcastically. "Either you haven't been around a lot of women, professor, or you're actually stupid enough to think that flashing is something we enjoy."

"It's the former, actually," said Crane. "But you misunderstood that too – I wasn't intending to flash you. I was just…very engrossed in my recollection of the story of my visit to the circus with my father…"

"Oh yeah, that load of crap," snapped Harley. "I may be new to the psychiatry profession, Professor Crane, but do you honestly think I can't tell when a guy is lying to me? That's not a matter of being a good shrink – it's just a matter of dealing with people over the years. They say things they don't mean, and make up lies to make you feel special, but that's all it is. Lies. I've had guys say lots of things to me over the years that I realized pretty quick was just a way to get into my pants. Believe me, I could tell by looking at you that your story was complete fiction."

"You…you could?" stammered Crane. "Then how come you couldn't when he…well, perhaps he's a better actor than me…"

"I don't have time for this, Professor Crane," snapped Harley, shoving past him. "We won't meet again, but I forgive you for your actions, if that's what you want to hear. I've learned over the years to not let the cruelty of people get to me. It's just their natural instinct, and you can't blame people for their nature. I don't let it hurt me anymore."

Crane could tell she was lying – there were tears in her eyes. She quickly strode from the office and down the corridor toward the front doors of the asylum. Crane watched her leave, and then hurried after her, trying to stay out of sight of the guards. He reached the front door to see Harley putting her box into the back of her car. She shut the back door and headed over to the driver's seat, but she was suddenly met by Dr. Leland, who was clearly apologizing once again for what had happened. Probably to avoid a lawsuit, thought Crane, but this was his chance. He bolted from the asylum and across the parking lot, reaching Harley's car from behind and sneaking into the backseat.

"Don't worry about it, really, Joan," Harley was saying. "No hard feelings. The job just didn't work out. I ain't gonna brood over it – I'm just gonna move on with my life."

"That's a very healthy, sensible attitude, Harley," said Dr. Leland. She embraced her warmly. "Good luck to you, and I'd be happy to write you a glowing reference for whatever job you end up in next."

"Thanks, Joan," said Harley, climbing into the driver's seat. "Nice to have met you."

She shut the door, and then started the engine, backing out of the parking lot and heading off into the streets of Gotham.

Crane lay in the backseat, wondering how on earth he was going to turn things around now. Popping up from her backseat and surprising her was probably not the best way. He decided to wait until they arrived at Harley's place, sneak out of the car, and then pretend he had escaped separately. Maybe arrange an accidental meeting somewhere, in a place where she wouldn't be on her guard or defensive when she saw him. Although he supposed that was fairly inevitable wherever they met after what he'd done.

He was racking his brain to think of something he could say that could turn things around, when Harley suddenly started sniffling. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but that didn't stop the tears for long. She began crying in earnest, and it broke Crane's heart to hear it.

"Get ahold of yourself, Harleen," she said to herself, sternly. "You're driving. This is no time for a breakdown. And anyway, there's no reason to be upset. Just like I said to Joan, no use brooding on it. You just failed again, that's all. Just like you've failed every time you've tried to go for something in your life. Because that's what you are. One big, massive failure."

She sniffed again, glaring at her reflection in the rearview mirror. "You study hard, you work hard, and for what?" she sniffed. "Failure. Just like you fail whenever you try to make friends, and whenever you attempt a relationship. That's because the only guys who'd want a failure like you are failures themselves. That's just who you are, Harleen, and that's all you're gonna be for the rest of your life. A miserable, unhappy, lonely failure. You might as well accept it."

She began sobbing now, and Crane's heart shattered. He was about to reveal his presence just to distract her from her tears, when suddenly something smashed into the car from above, colliding hard with the roof and shattering the windshield. Harley shrieked, slamming on the brake as she cringed to avoid the broken glass. Crane lay where he was – the roof had crumpled so that he couldn't get out even if he wanted to. He raised himself so he could just barely see out the window. He heard Harley's door open and slam shut as she climbed out, and then her angry voice shouting, "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You could have killed me!"

"I'm…sorry," said a familiar voice, which Crane recognized as Batman's. "I thought the street was empty…"

"Well, why doncha look before you go throwing people off buildings onto it, you caped freak?!" demanded Harley. "You gonna pay for my car?! I can't – I just lost my job! And no insurer in this town will pay for Bat-related damage!"

"I…I don't usually…" stammered Batman.

"You don't usually take responsibility for the messes you create, huh?!" finished Harley for him. "You cause millions of dollars of property damage in this town, but you just expect the hard-working citizens to pay for it! Do you even pay taxes, Batman?! I tell ya, I ain't letting you leave until you give me some hard cash for a new car!"

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened, but I have to return this dangerous criminal to Arkham right now…" began Batman.

"You leave him where he is!" snapped Harley. "He's my insurance you're gonna come back! He ain't even conscious after colliding with my roof – you're lucky he's still alive! Just go get me my money!"

"I'm not leaving a civilian here with him!" snapped Batman. "What if he wakes up? He'll hurt you, and then he'll escape to go hurt some more innocent people!"

"You let me worry about that!" snapped Harley. "I'm a doctor, and I'm used to dealing with dangerous criminals. And if you try to avoid taking responsibility for your actions, if you try to take this guy off the roof of my car and fly off like you always do, I ain't gonna rest until everyone in this town knows Batman's a crook and a fraud!"

"Why don't you just give me your name and address, and I'll get the money to you after I lock him safely up in Arkham…" began Batman.

"I don't trust you! Go get it now!" snapped Harley. "Or knock me out like you did him, but I don't think you're the kinda guy who beats up innocent people. Of course, I also wouldn't be surprised if you prove me wrong, a creep like you!"

There was silence, and at last Batman growled, "I'll be back in five minutes. If he wakes up, run."

Crane saw Batman grapple over to a nearby building, and disappear into the night. "Good riddance, jerk," muttered Harley. "I ain't holding my breath on the five minutes – he's probably gonna have to rip off a few banks for that kinda cash, a deadbeat like him."

She sighed, and then Crane felt the object on the roof stir suddenly. There was a groan, and then a familiar voice said, "Ouch, my aching skull! Feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks!"

"You hit my car _like_ a ton of bricks, all right," snapped Harley. "Can you move?"

"I think so," said the voice. "I've been thrown off enough buildings in my time that one more time probably ain't done any long-term damage."

Crane felt the object on the roof shift, and then slowly climb down, and to his horror, he recognized the battered shape of the Joker. "Where's the Bat?" he asked. "Unlike him to just beat me and leave me – I thought our relationship meant more to him than that!" he chuckled.

"He's gone to get me some money to pay for a new car after he destroyed mine by throwing you onto it," retorted Harley.

"Yeah? It ain't like the Bat to take responsibility for his actions like that," said Joker, looking puzzled.

"No, I made him do it," replied Harley. "Threatened to tell everyone he was a crook and a fraud."

"You…threatened Batman?" said Joker, gazing at her in astonishment. Then he laughed hysterically. "Sweetheart, you've got balls! I like that in a woman. Not literally, of course. But it's nice to meet a dame with a spine, well, one that hasn't been shot by me anyway. I'm the Joker," he said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, I know. You're kinda famous, or infamous, as the case may be," retorted Harley. "I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel. But call me Harley – everyone does."

"Attractive female doctor forces Batman to abandon Joker to get cash. That should be a headline, huh?" chuckled Joker.

"I ain't really the type to make headlines," said Harley. "Actually, I ain't really the type to stand up for myself, usually. But I've been having kinda a bad day, and I guess I just snapped."

"I know the feeling," laughed Joker. "Bad days can really get to ya, unless you know the secret."

"What's the secret?" asked Harley.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret," replied Joker. "Or I'd have to kill you, and that'd be such a waste after Batsy's gone to get your money and everything. I'd hate for him to see the gal who threatened him dead – it's so much funnier if I leave you alive for him to know that you're still out there somewhere, ready to threaten him again. Batman living in fear of being whipped by a dame – I love it!" he laughed.

"I doubt he's afraid of me, just of losing his reputation as a good guy," said Harley. "But he ain't a good guy – just a bullying thug. You're a sick man with a lotta mental problems, and you need help, not another beating. He's beat you however many times before, and it hasn't done any good, so I don't know why he keeps doing it. Insane, I guess. The definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Well, look who I'm talking to," she said, nodding at him. "You're the one who tries to kill Batman over and over again."

"Yeah, because it's fun, not because I actually wanna do it," chuckled Joker.

"It's fun to see yourself like this? Beaten and bruised and bleeding?" asked Harley.

"Yep, hysterical! Because it can never wipe the smile offa my face, kid," said Joker, grinning. "That's what Batman wants, to make me as gloomy and miserable as he is. But he won't ever succeed. I'm too happy a guy!"

"I guess I envy you that," sighed Harley. "I don't have anything to be happy about. I literally just lost my job, well, I guess I was more driven outta it. I'm a shrink with nowhere to work, and with no one to go home to and cheer me up after a bad day. And a lunatic has just thrown another lunatic into my car, totaling it."

"How can you not be happy about that?" chuckled Joker. "Listen to what you just said – that's hysterically funny! Great story to tell at parties – Batman ruined your car by flinging the Joker into it, and you made Batman pay for it!"

"I guess it would be a fun story, if I ever went to any parties," agreed Harley. "But I don't have a lotta friends. Kinda a loner, I guess, so I won't be making anyone laugh with that story."

"You can always make yourself laugh. That's what I do!" giggled Joker. "You don't ever really need an audience if you can amuse yourself. There will always be someone to laugh at your jokes, even if it's just you. That's what I gotta do most of the time, laugh at my own jokes, because the humorless population of Gotham don't get 'em. You like jokes, kid?"

"I guess," said Harley, shrugging.

"Well, here's one that always cheers me up on a bad day. So there's this guy who dresses in a bat costume, and every night he goes out into the city to find other freaks in costumes to fight. Now if he wins these fights, he drags the other freaks off to a lunatic asylum so they can get the help they so clearly need. And then he repeats the pattern, night after night. But this guy in the bat costume never goes to get the help _he_ so clearly needs. He never thinks of himself as being exactly like the freaks he drags in. He thinks of himself as something better, something heroic, even though he's doing the exact same things as the other freaks in costumes. Only he thinks he's better because he doesn't kill people. But he never gets the punchline to his own joke."

The Joker started laughing hysterically. "I'm sorry, what's the punchline?" asked Harley.

"Oh, c'mon, kid, do I have to spell it out for you?" chuckled Joker. "He's crazy! He's as crazy as the rest of us! He's a total psychopath, but he's deluded himself into thinking he's a hero! And he's deluded the rest of this miserable town too! He's made everyone in Gotham share his madness, but if you try telling 'em that, they say you're the crazy one! But then crazy people often don't like their insanity questioned. They need to keep their delusions, because the world is too hard to face without 'em. But if they all knew the secret, they'd be fine."

"And you won't tell me what this secret is?" asked Harley.

"You wanna die?" he asked.

"Not particularly," said Harley, shrugging. "But you did just say you didn't wanna kill me because it would annoy Batman that I was still alive. So even if you tell me, you won't kill me, because it'd ruin your joke."

Joker chuckled. "Smart girl. We've only been together for five minutes and you get me more than any of those idiot shrinks in Arkham who've been studying me for years. Ok, I'll tell you, but only because you look like you could use some cheering up, and I do love to spread smiles. The secret is not to fight the madness, but embrace it. Go crazy. Look at yourself in the mirror every morning and say, 'Yes, I'm insane, and I'm loving it.' And then just do what makes you happy. Find your crazy little sense of happiness and hold onto it, no matter how insane it is, no matter how much the world tells you to stop, or how much it hurts you. You cling onto it and you never let it go. That's what I do. And the smile's never left this face since."

There was silence as Harley just looked at him. "And going crazy…it's that simple?" she asked at last. "You just accept it, and suddenly you're…happy?"

"Well, it worked for me," said Joker. "Hasn't worked for Bats, but he hasn't accepted it yet, y'see. But go ahead, try it. Repeat after me: 'I am crazy, and that's ok, because I'm happy.'"

"I…am crazy, and that's ok, because…I'm happy," she stammered, slowly.

"Uh uh, don't believe you, you ain't smiling," said Joker, shaking his head. "Repeat it again."

"I am crazy, and that's ok, because…I'm happy," repeated Harley, with a small grin.

"A little smile there, but you can do better," said Joker. "Say it loud and say it proud, sweetheart."

"I am crazy, and that's ok, because I'm happy!" shouted Harley, smiling broadly.

"There ya go!" exclaimed Joker, beaming. "Nothing to it, am I right? Feel better already, doncha?"

"Uh huh," she said, smiling. "Thanks to you."

"Aw, it's nothing," he said, waving his hand. "Spreading smiles is just what I do, like I said. If you hadn't smiled, I woulda had to use my Joker toxin on you, because I just hate gloomy faces, and yours was one of the worst I've seen. All better now, though," he said, smiling at her. "And see what a difference a little smile can make? It's a beautiful sight."

He reached out a hand to touch her cheek. Their eyes locked, and their faces simultaneously and slowly drew toward each other. Harley's cheeks reddened and her breathing began to speed up as she tilted her lips up toward his. Their mouths were inches from meeting when a shadow suddenly swooped down, ruining the moment.

"Here," said Batman, holding out a wad of money to her. "That should cover it. And what did I say to do if Joker woke up?" he demanded, grabbing Joker and cuffing his hands behind his back. "You're lucky to be alive. This maniac would kill you as soon as look at you."

"Yeah, he's…crazy," stammered Harley, gazing at Joker, who looked back at her, smiling. "Probably best that you go…lock him up in Arkham. I…uh…just quit my job there, but I think…I might be willing to give it another go. I'm sure Dr. Leland will be happy to have me back."

She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the money, Batman," she said. "I'm glad you took responsibility for your actions for once in your life. I hope we never meet again."

Batman nodded, dragging Joker over to the Batmobile and shoving him inside. He leapt into the driver's seat and sped off. "But I wouldn't count on it," murmured Harley, gazing after him. She watched the Batmobile disappear with the Joker inside of it, and suddenly began laughing. Uncontrollably, hysterically, until tears ran down her cheeks. And Crane knew beyond a doubt that he had failed.


	6. Chapter 6

Harley called a towing service for her car, and then made a call to Arkham to ask Dr. Leland if she could have her job back, which Dr. Leland hastily and happily consented to. Harley then called a cab to come pick her up, and opened the back door to see if her box of possessions was still in tact. She saw Crane, and didn't noticeably react, except to calmly say, "Do you want a lift back to Arkham with me?"

"That would be fine," he muttered, crawling out.

"Have you been in there the whole time?" she asked.

"Yes. I thought if I could explain everything to you, I could change things. But I can't change things. I see that now," said Crane.

"What things did you want to change?" she asked.

Crane sighed. "Well, you already think I'm a lunatic, so you might as well know the truth. I came here from another reality. In my reality, you and the Joker are in a romantic relationship, but it's not a healthy one. It's cruel and abusive and based on pain. And I…have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. I wanted to save you from the pain, and hoped you could find happiness with me. So in this reality, I wanted to try and convince you to love me, by using the same tactics on you that the Joker used in my reality. But they didn't work for me. We're two very different men, and I can see now that…the connection you have with him is not something that can be duplicated by me, even using the same strategies. I see that even if things don't work out the same way they do in my reality…you're always fated to end up with him somehow. And it pains me to say it, as a man of science, but there appears to be some destiny that brings you two together, no matter how I try to interfere. Jervis was right – we cannot change what is meant to be. And God knows why, but it seems that you and the monster are meant to be."

Harley nodded slowly. "Even if I believe all this stuff about another reality, which I don't, I don't understand why you thought acting like another man would get me to love you. Unless you were going to spend the rest of your life acting like the Joker. Surely you should want to be loved for yourself. So why wouldn't you just _be_ yourself?"

"Because you don't love me," he said. "And I wanted to be the man you love."

Harley nodded again. "I understand," she said. "I don't know what's going to happen between the Joker and me, but I know what just happened has changed things forever. I felt something with him that I've never felt before with anyone. And just before I met him, as you probably heard, I was ready to give up on anyone ever loving me. Maybe you and I aren't that different in terms of our personalities and experiences of the world. I've been teased and bullied and rejected by people, and I never thought the person I truly was would be good enough for anyone to love. I think I was wrong about that, and I think you are too. There is someone out there who will love you exactly as you are."

She took his hand. "But I don't need someone who's similar to me. I need someone who completes me. I think the Joker does that. I have never felt happiness like the kind he made me feel, and I think that's what being happy is. It's a wholeness, a completeness, a realization that you're who and where you're meant to be. And who you're meant to be with. I'm sorry for your sake that it's not you."

"So am I," agreed Crane. "But it's a fool who doesn't learn from his mistakes, and I'm no fool. I'm a gentleman, and I have no choice but to withdraw like a gentleman. I do hope you and the Joker will be very happy in this reality."

"Are we not in yours?" asked Harley.

Crane thought for a moment. "I suppose…when all is said and done…you are," he admitted, grudgingly. "Though God knows I don't understand why."

"I don't think you need to," replied Harley. "Just as long as the Joker and I do."

"Well, you do…share the same type of madness," said Crane. "I'm just disappointed it's not mine."

"Like I said, I'm sure she's out there," said Harley, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Just try to be patient. And when you meet her, please don't start by dropping your pants," she added with a grin.

"I told you, I was mimicking the Joker's moves!" snapped Crane.

"Yeah…I wouldn't mind him dropping his pants," sighed Harley, with an adoring gleam in her eyes. "Bet he's got a really impressive body. Hope I get to find out soon!" she giggled.

Crane sighed heavily – Dr. Quinzel was back to the Harley he knew. But he realized suddenly that Dr. Quinzel had never laughed, and never smiled, and certainly never giggled until this moment. He might never approve of her choice of partner, but there was no denying the fact that she was much happier now.

The cab arrived at last to take them back to Arkham. "I don't know how you escaped, Jonathan, but thank you for coming back before you had to be dragged back by Batman," said Dr. Leland, as he was returned to his cell. "And thank you for bringing him back, Dr. Quinzel – I would assume after your previous interactions that you'd want nothing more to do with him."

"Well, we had a talk," said Harley, nodding. "And I think we understand each other now. Don't we, Professor Crane?" she asked.

"Yes," he agreed. "I suppose as well as we're ever going to."

"But if you wouldn't mind, Joan, I'd like to take on a new patient," continued Harley, turning to her. "The Joker."

"The Joker?" repeated Dr. Leland, surprised. "I don't know, Harley. We don't like to start the new doctors off with him. He's a tricky one - probably better that the more experienced staff handle him. And you've already been scared off once. The Joker is not the kind of man who's going to convince you to stay."

"I think he might surprise you, Joan," said Harley. "And I promise I'll be very committed to him. Please let me try."

"Well…I guess a few sessions couldn't hurt," admitted Dr. Leland. "And it's the least I can do after your disastrous first experience here. Heck, maybe you'll be the one to finally make a breakthrough. There's no harm in letting you see how you get on with him, is there?"

"Nope, Joan," agreed Harley, following her off down the hall with a smile. "No harm at all."

"Oh, if only she knew," sighed Crane, lying back on his bed. There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and then Crane awoke to Tetch pulling the alternate reality simulator off his head.

"Joker's coming!" he hissed, shoving the hat under the bed. "I have to hide this, but I can send you back later…"

"No need," sighed Crane, sitting up. "You were right, Jervis. I can't change what happened between them. Nor can I be any sort of substitute for the Joker. I might as well accept that Harley and I are not destined to be together…"

"Well, is that an 'I-told-you-so' I feel coming on?" chuckled Joker, appearing in the cell at that moment with Harley clinging to him.

"What are you doing out of solitary?" demanded Crane.

"I got let out early for good behavior," said Joker.

" _You_ got let out early for good behavior?" repeated Crane.

"No, obviously that's a lie," retorted Joker. "I snapped off bits of the TV antenna while I was out, which I used to pick the lock when I was returned to solitary. Nobody knows I've flown the coop yet, and hopefully they won't come check on me for a good long while."

"Mr. J and me are just heading back to my cell for some well deserved playtime," giggled Harley, gazing at him with that same adoration.

"But we thought we'd stop by and see how my nerd buddy is doing with his little experiment," said Joker with a grin. "Any change in those human romantic behavioral patterns?"

Crane glared at him. "No," he retorted. "The experiment was a complete failure."

"Not a complete failure – I get twenty dollars from Poison Ivy," said Tetch. "Not that that'll pay for a huge amount of equipment, but every little helps."

"Red was in on the experiment too?" asked Harley, confused.

"Yep, and she's gonna be mad as hell that you failed," said Joker, nodding. "Probably confirm her theory that all men are useless, though. Not _all_ men are, of course, just you," he said, smiling at Crane. "Some of us have great success with experiments in human romantic behavioral patterns, don't we, pooh?"

"I…guess," said Harley, who was beyond confused now. "Is someone gonna tell me what this experiment was?"

"It's too complicated for your pretty little blonde brain to understand, pooh bear," said Joker, patting her on the head.

"She's smarter than you – she was a highly capable doctor!" snapped Crane.

"Yep. And now she's a highly incompetent henchwench!" chuckled Joker. "You've really gone up in the world, haven't you, pumpkin pie?"

"I sure have, Mr. J!" exclaimed Harley, beaming at him. "I have my precious puddin' by my side every day, well, every day when he's not in solitary, of course. How could anyone ever top that?"

"I understand, pooh, but not everyone does," said Joker. "But then not everyone appreciates what a genius I am, except for my cute little Harley pie, of course," he cooed, kissing her. "Now let's head to yours so Daddy can give you the revving of a lifetime. I want you to be completely unrestrained in terms of the noises you make – make sure the whole cell block hears how much you love what Daddy does to you, as loudly as possible," he said, grinning at Crane as he and Harley headed for her cell.

"Can you deafen me for the next few hours somehow?" asked Crane, turning to Tetch.

"I _should_ construct some impenetrable earplugs," agreed Tetch. "It would make our lives in here a lot easier, though I suppose it might be a fire hazard if an alarm went off and we didn't hear it or something. I'm just surprised and pleased the Joker didn't smash the alternate reality simulator. One actually survived the experience," he said, picking it up from under the bed.

"He was probably distracted focusing on how much Harley's pleasure is going to irritate me," muttered Crane. "I think he gets off more on the annoyance factor than the actual sexual act."

"I wouldn't be surprised," agreed Tetch. "There is something horribly wrong with him that nobody understands."

"Harley does," said Crane. "Somehow…she does. She's just so kind and intelligent and incisive and…the ironic thing is I'm probably even more in love with her even as I know I can never have her," he sighed. "It's nonsense, isn't it?"

"So is life, my friend," agreed Tetch, nodding.

"Perhaps the Joker is right – perhaps life is all just one big, cruel joke," continued Crane. "A bitter jest played on us by some malevolent god."

"Perhaps," agreed Tetch. "Or perhaps these obstacles to our happiness are put in our way sometimes to enable us to be better people. Sometimes the suffering we experience can change us for the better, and give us a better understanding of who we are and what we want out of life. Every cloud has a silver lining, Jonathan."

Harley began moaning loudly in pleasure at that moment. "Oh, Mr. J! Oh, puddin', you're a god!"

"And what is the silver lining of this particular cloud?" asked Crane dryly, turning to him.

"Like I said, at least the reality simulator is still in one piece," retorted Tetch, nodding at it.

"Oh yes, puddin'! Oh yes! Right there! Punish me, Daddy! Harder, harder, harder! Oh, Jesus Christ, oh God, yes, yes, yes, YEEEEEEEEESSS!"

Harley's high-pitched shriek suddenly shattered the glass components of the reality simulator, which immediately began hissing and sparking. These sparks fanned into flames that quickly consumed the hat entirely. Both Tetch and Crane stared at the remains as the fire alarm began beeping in the cell block.

"I loathe him," said Tetch, looking up.

"Join the club," sighed Crane. "But on the bright side, he'll be back in solitary soon. The guards are going to come running at the alarm."

"There, you see?" said Tetch, beaming. "Silver lining! Although not for poor Harley, I suspect."

"Oh, she's happy enough for the most part," said Crane. "And I suppose that's what really matters. If you love someone, you…want them to be happy," he said, watching as the guards raced into the cell block, seizing the Joker and dragging him, half dressed, out of Harley's cell, who clung on to him desperately. The guards managed to separate them at last, with Joker chuckling hysterically to himself, and Harley gazing after him as he was dragged away, beaming. Seeing her smile was still the most beautiful sight in the world, and Crane couldn't help copying it. "And she is," he said. "She is."

 **The End**


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